Ford looks off to the side. “Could you go get us some drinks so I can talk to my sister?” His tone is clipped.
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” Larkin says, her head down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ford talk to her like that, and it shows from her reaction that he hasn’t. Larkin scurries out of the room, shutting the door behind her without another word.
“You didn’t have to send her out like that!”
“She’s fine.” But then his eyes soften as they travel toward the door, almost as if he’s trying to keep this angry exterior, but there seems to be some longing there. Guilt.
“Is she?” I ask. “Because it looks like you just embarrassed her.”
His eyes pull away from the door, and he clears his throat. “Listen, Palmer, don’t tell me how to handle my employees. I have enough going on—I don’t need that from you too.”
“‘Too’? What do you mean ‘too’? What else have I done?”
He lets out an irritated sigh. “The bickering with Cooper over emails. Do you really think that’s something I want to read, given how busy I am during the day? I don’t want to be the peacemaker between you two all the time.”
“You’re not the peacemaker all the time.”
He lets out a dry laugh. “Okay.”
“Uh, excuse me, but what’s with the attitude? I thought I would come here and talk to my loving older brother . . . could you perhaps direct me to where he is?” I glance around the room.
“Palmer, I don’t have time for this. I’m under a lot of stress—”
“With rebranding the store?”
He grips the back of his chair and stares down at the wooden seat. “Yes, with rebranding the store.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? This is a huge deal, Ford, the kind of thing you include everyone on. Does Dad know?”
“Yes, of course Dad knows.”
“So why didn’t you say anything to me or Cooper?”
“Cooper knows as well.”
“What?” I say. Once again, I’ve been left out of the family business. It’s like high school all over again.
When I was in high school, I told my parents I wanted to help with the store in any way possible. Contrary to what my brothers probably think—thanks to my teenage groaning—I actually loved everything about the store. It always felt like home to me. But at that point Ford was already in charge and starting the franchising process. Mom and Dad told me to talk with him. They were sure he would give me something good to do, at least an internship.
He gave me nothing.
He told me that the store wasn’t my passion and to not rely on something safe, to reach for something I actually wanted.
But that’s what I thought I wanted. Despite not loving nature as much as Cooper always did, I still loved everything about the store—the memories, the smell, unpacking new products. Spending weekends in the back office with my dad, listening to him teach Ford everything he needed to know about business and management. I listened, I learned, and out of spite, I took that information and ran with it. I ran away to other countries, searching for that happy.
And the sad thing is I never found it.
“What do you mean Cooper knows?” I repeat, heart pounding.
“He hangs with Mom and Dad—Dad told him.”
“That’s great,” I say. “So, everyone knew but me? Were you going to tell me?”
“Frankly, no,” Ford says. “This is a big decision, and I don’t need too many cooks in the kitchen.”
I glance around at the mock-ups, taking them in once more as a fresh wave of hurt washes over me. “Well, looks like you need at least one cook in the kitchen, because these are all trash.”
Ford blinks, stunned. “They’re not trash.”
“Really, Ford?” I motion to the fox one. “How does that represent our family, or the company Mom and Dad built from scratch? These are impersonal and totally miss the mark. You might not value my opinion, but you should consult with someone close to the company, because you’re going to spend a hell of a lot of money on something that honestly . . . is going to fail and make the family look like a bunch of fools for trying to be something we’re not.”
Anger searing through me, I spin on my heel and head out the door, leaving him in shocked silence. On the stairs, I bypass Larkin without saying a word. I hear her say something, but I completely ignore her and walk right out of the inn and onto the sidewalk. I stand there, still fuming and unsure where to go.
Everyone knew about the rebranding but me. If that doesn’t speak volumes about what happened in the past, I don’t know what does.
Tears well up in my eyes as I try to catch my breath.
God, I’ve never felt so . . . so . . . lost.
What the hell am I even doing here?
I thought this place would help save me, but all it’s done is tear me down, one day at a time.
With my good hand, I grip my forehead and take a deep breath. That did not go as planned. I thought seeing Ford was going to put me in a better mood, but all I’ve managed to accomplish is to get into another fight with one of my brothers. Am I really so unhappy that I try to make everyone around me miserable too?
That would be a depressing realization.
I contemplate going back up there and apologizing, but for what, exactly? I have the right to be upset. Ford has been cutting me out of the family business for as long as I can remember. And this is just another example.
I never fought him on it because . . . well, because of everything that happened, but then I came to him last year about the company’s social media presence, the lackluster Instagram account and how to beef it up, make it more appealing and useful to attract customers. He pushed me aside.
Today was no different.
Holding back my tears, I turn to the right and run smack into a strong, tall statue.
“Hey there, you okay?”
Oh God, I know that voice all too well now.
Slowly my eyes travel up until they meet a pair of hazel ones.
Dr. Beau. Why, oh why does he have to be here, right now, while I tear up on the sidewalk?
“Fine,” I say, tilting my head down. “I, uh, was just heading to, uh, lunch.”
He tucks his index finger under my chin and lifts my eyes so I’m looking at him. “Going to lunch with tears in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like everything is fine.” He nods toward Pickles and Cheese, the local sandwich shop that serves the best roast beef sandwich I’ve ever eaten. “Join me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DR. BEAU
Her eyes skirt over to the shop, and I can practically see her mind whirling, silently debating what to do. I have a feeling she’s going to say no, and I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I’m probably the last person she wants to have lunch with, given our few previous interactions, but seeing her upset on the sidewalk, looking distraught and then catching the tears in her eyes . . . yeah, I couldn’t just leave her by herself.
“I’m looking for someone to split a roast beef sandwich with me,” I say, knowing she probably needs the encouragement. “Come on, we can sit outside, and you don’t even have to talk.”
“Your expectations for a lunch partner are low,” her shaky voice jokes.